Who ⬤ Emily and open! What ⬤ Monthly catchall - clinic work, music club, etc. When ⬤ Over May. Where ⬤ Across the city. Content Warnings ⬤ TBA if needed.
[the clinic's not done, but it doesn't mean she won't see patients. in fact, it means she's there late on nights when she doesn't sing, putting in time to try and finish the dozen small projects that setting up something like this contains. she's immeasurably grateful to Aerith for assisting her, but it's clear tonight that something's on her mind as she puts away supplies, before she takes a breath and decides to speak.]
...Something's not right, Aerith. You've seen those little clay dolls, haven't you?
[ Getting an entire secretive clinic up and running is a big job, but it's making herself useful that keeps Aerith going, most days. There's always something to change, to better, and when Emily had slipped it into conversation, she had wasted no time barreling into it. This is, as she sees it, a necessity. Neutral ground, neutral treatment; nightmares nip at the corners of her mind like needles threatening to pierce skin.
She rolls a half-empty cart across the floor. It needs refilling, the tools need cleaning. Emily's voice trickles in over the groggy haze of sleep deprivation. ]
Mm? [ Aerith raises her head, focuses on the Emily's brown eyes, squints. The clay dolls, is it? Her lips pucker into a straight line, and she fiddles with a package of depressors, slips it into the cart with a delicate, if detached, touch. ]
The Haniwa, I think they called them. Yeah. [ A pair of them sits in her apartment, on the counter. They watch her while she sleeps. She isn't alone in that room— not anymore. ]
[she catches the eye of her partner, and a frown crosses her features. setting the box she had down, she comes over, definitely looking her over with the analyzing expression that says Aerith's poor sleep patterns are completely found out.]
[ There is a near immediate brightening of her expression, marked by surprise as she perks up to peer over at Emily. Aerith's attention shifts seamlessly from her work to the other woman, brows raised and green eyes glimmering with a sudden shock of inquisitiveness in the sterile lighting of the clinic. It's a moment before she realizes what she's actually being asked. A sheepish sort of smiles coaxes it's way onto her lips. It's small. ]
Well... that's the thing, really. It's hard to sleep when you've got them around. Kind of a surprise, to tell the truth...
Have they been causing you undue trouble? Appearing in your apartment?
[that won't do at all. she can hardly ask Aerith to keep moving under these circumstances - being haunted by these curses can't be good on anyone.]
If you're exhausted, you can rest here, you know. A young man actually set up some wards over these rooms - I haven't seen a single one of those objects since he did. It'd be a safe haven.
His name is Matoba. You'll know him by his serious demeanor and the eyepatch he wears, also his preference towards more traditional clothing. He's part of my clan, so you might see him on business.
[a pause, though, and she puts what she was dealing with aside.]
Why did you bring the dolls home with you? Did someone ask you to protect them?
[she's trying to figure them out, and it's hard to get much more than "bad vibes" off a doll.]
[ Hm, noted. She puts that description to the back of her mind; this ward sounds very helpfu, indeed. Settling down onto a free bed, Aerith hums softly. Her back is to Emily when she speaks. ]
Mmm... Enma was tasked with collecting them. [ So, they're of interest for that alone, to her. But... ]
And they're cute. [ Just saying. ] Isn't that weird?
[the clay doll they bring to the Department is wrapped in a towel, their skin bristling at the idea of touching this for long. something's not right - something's deeply amiss, and Hibiki has no issue foisting off the creations to become someone else's problem. politics, all of that, it doesn't quite matter at the moment, when they aren't even highly ranked enough to matter, to be in anyone's eyes.
but it's who they see while in line that make the youkai's eyes open a little wider, deciding to delay their inevitable wait in the endless bureaucratic line in favor of calling out.]
Ichimonji.
[that's not Emily's voice. that's older, more weathered, less overtly feminine, and the look in their eyes isn't hers either. her eyes don't have that strange green sheen.]
[He got back from another patrol and on-field investigation earlier, and just finished talking with someone. Although they are collecting the haniwa and passing them over for storage, he couldn't help but feel like it'll build up to something.
Until he heard someone calling out to him with that name. He quickly looks over and sees Emily. Except it's not her, her voice sounds different, as well as the look in her eyes. His eyes widen for a moment.
Normally, just those within the Enma knows his full name. There might be a few outside of the faction, but overall, he's deliberately careful with giving out his name. He walks over to meet Emily... either her, or someone in her body?]
[they don't entirely move like a human does - it's the sense of someone wearing a very well fitted costume, but that's still not their clothes. that, and Emily always carries her wings tucked close as if apologizing for them. this one simply lets them be.]
There's no one here you need to fool. Or...
[and here, their gaze narrows, looking him over head to toe.]
Don't tell me that the fading world got to your mind as well. Not unexpected, but it would explain her reticence to reach forth.
[He observed how she moves and hold herself. In return, Norimune seems like a regular "person". But he's usually well covered up by his clothes.]
Oh? Hakagemachi, I presume.
[It's probably not the first time this building have seen people meeting by chance, confronting each other (both trivial and more serious) and so forth. Other than a few curious glances, the other youkai seems to mind their businesses.]
Since it's not the first time I've met people who already knows of this old man. And they all mentioned the same place.
[As curious as the situation is, it makes him wonder how much do they all know about him.]
I'd love to hear more about this, if you don't mind. How about we sit down?
[From the sound of it, this other Norimune most likely have a similiar situation as these Hakagemachi's people. Should he mention that she's mistaken, and she knew a different "copy" of him?
Maybe not in this space. Too public, and for information that's not necessary for anyone else here to learn. There's still the matter of how much Emily and this youkai know about him.]
It sounds like you care about this young one you speak of.
One naturally has an interest in the fate of...shall we call it their countrymen? But I'd be glad to join you, provided I can get this taken off my hands.
[they shrug, indicating the bundle in their arms, still wrapped up.]
[it's her habit now to check the arcade machines outside the game center, ever since she'd found Kamui sleeping inside one, just to make sure the incident hasn't repeated itself. so far, it hasn't, but she'll call nothing confirmed until she sees a solid while pass without any absurdity. so far, nothing, and even the tiny residents of Hell who visit them haven't seen a thing. all the better, in Emily's opinion.
which is why it's so unusual to hear some kind of fuss going on in the vicinity, something that has nothing to do with rigged games. curiously, she steps closer, hoping to eavesdrop enough to clarify it's none of her business - or if one of the little ones is involved, to make sure they extract themselves properly. but to trained eyes, perhaps, interest in the content of the disagreement looks like actively wanting to get involved.
that's not the case, but who cares what she wants?]
[There is not an alleyway nor side street in all of Jigoku-cho that isn't rife with points of varying interest. The street Emily has found herself meandering down is no different, dotted with various establishments excelling in both entertainment and distraction. Namely, on her path to the game center, just a little further down the street, she may have noticed a host club with an intricate logo emblazoned on its windows — a crane with blue-tipped feathers, spreading its wings mid-flight. In one of the windows, nestled in the corner, is a plushie variant of this same crane, big and soft and round with little round eyes.
A mascot character for a host club? Well, businesses do love their mascots, so maybe it's barely worth a notice.
At the arcade entrance, where Emily lingers, a man has already mistaken her presence as a willing participant in whatever commotion is currently unraveling within. That man is none other than Sholmes, who turns to her as though magnetized in her direction—]
Madam!
[And waves her over with one hand, the other adjusting the brim of his deerstalker.]
Step into this establishment and lend me a second pair of eyes. A second opinion. After all, I'm of a mind that there's more afoot in this place than what is immediately obvious.
[she starts a little, clearly not expecting to be addressed, but being basically commanded instead of asked to do something is pretty much the quickest way to have Emily assist with anything. dutifully, she comes that way, looking a bit concerned but keeping her eyes open.]
What exactly do you need me to look at, sir? What seems to be going on?
[she can't give an opinion without facts to work on.]
[Yes, of course you, Emily. There is no escaping it now -- you're officially strong-armed into this without any actual strong-arming happening, only the sweeping pull of expectation.]
Now then, that is the mystery I should like to unravel. Come in and see.
[And so Sholmes steps back inside the arcade with the assumption that she'll follow. It is not a terribly large place, at least not compared to some of the more sprawling spaces amid the city, but there are a fair amount of games that none should turn their nose up at. This includes, of course, the obligatory aisle of nothing more than crane games, not terribly far from the front counter.
He turns to face her again, gesturing with a hand to the individuals before them.]
I should direct your attention to the fellows before you -- there!
[The "fellows" he refers to are none other than:
A youkai at the counter, quite well-dressed for the establishment, his fox ears at a slant due to some unknown anxieties. He holds a screwdriver stiffly in one hand; on the back portion of the counter behind him rests an open toolbox. He looks at both Sholmes and Emily, wide-eyed, sputtering out a: W-welcome, did you need any assistance?
The second fellow is actually a small youkai child, holding a huge bucket of coins, proof of someone who has enough skill to wring dry several of these arcade machines. He's barely tall enough to look over the counter, but his indignity makes up for it. He motions at a collection of familiar-looking crane plushies, lined up very purposefully on the counter, face-forward, and declares: I was going to win those out of the machine! All of them! Why'd you take them out?!
The fox-eared youkai shoots him a look, citing, They're defective!
Meanwhile, Sholmes grins at Emily.]
Do you not sense something off here? Some great deceit underway? I should say that there are two shadowy wrongs amid this seemingly mundane scene: someone pretending to be who he is not, and an act of thievery brewing!
[she looks over the different components of the scene, eyes flickering between the child, the plushies, and the worker. there's something not right here, and it pricks at her senses, before she looks at the gentleman who's clearly trying to decipher something out of the situation.]
...Those toys aren't meant to be here. At the least, not within children's grasp. And yet here they are, where they don't belong, meaning someone made a grave error or committed some switchery.
[The youkai at the counter seems aghast, and all the more anxious, sputtering out a: What are you talking about? I work here!]
Ha! You work here as much as I do, good fellow — which is to say, not at all!
[Sholmes tilts his head at Emily, his manner expectant.]
In fact, I should say that he has another profession altogether! That of a doctor!
[What? sputters the youkai.]
What is it you have in your hand? A screwdriver! And if you'll look closely…
[(There is no camera or POV in this instance, and yet… oddly. The scene seems to shift, seems to zoom in towards the tool in the youkai's hand. Maybe it's all just a trick of the light.)]
There is a piece of thread caught on its end, matching a very particular blue belonging to the cranes before you!
What do you think, madam? [That's you, Emily.] Would you not agree that our stranger here is not only a doctor, but a surgeon, practicing his craft upon these poor stuffed birds?
No, he's not a surgeon, nor a doctor at all. Why would he waste his time upon stuffed creatures in the first place when if one wanted to do something like practice technique, they could perfectly well do so in other ways?
[it makes no sense, but she's looking at the screwdriver.]
Still, why would he need that to manipulate the case? Surely there are latches upon these contraptions - unless of course he was using the screwdriver for something else entirely.
[—says the man who just deduced seconds ago that this youkai was a doctor.]
The man is not a doctor at all, but neither is he an employee of this fine establishment! Far too well-dressed for someone in such a casual environment, who must sometimes see to the maintenance of these machines.
[Here, the youkai child pipes up: He said he's fixing all those cranes plushies, but there was nothing to fix! He grips his massive bucket of coins with such a furor they shake and jingle. They were fine! He took them all out just so I wouldn't win one! I'm too good at these games and he's just jealous!]
Hm. [Sholmes looks at Emily.] Perhaps, madam, I should direct your attention to the thread caught around the screwdriver. It has indeed been fiddling with these plushies in a most invasive manner — but why? Perhaps we should inspect one?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
custom.
aerith.
...Something's not right, Aerith. You've seen those little clay dolls, haven't you?
[the ones that are showing up everywhere.]
no subject
She rolls a half-empty cart across the floor. It needs refilling, the tools need cleaning. Emily's voice trickles in over the groggy haze of sleep deprivation. ]
Mm? [ Aerith raises her head, focuses on the Emily's brown eyes, squints. The clay dolls, is it? Her lips pucker into a straight line, and she fiddles with a package of depressors, slips it into the cart with a delicate, if detached, touch. ]
The Haniwa, I think they called them. Yeah. [ A pair of them sits in her apartment, on the counter. They watch her while she sleeps. She isn't alone in that room— not anymore. ]
What's up? You want to talk about them, Emily?
no subject
[she catches the eye of her partner, and a frown crosses her features. setting the box she had down, she comes over, definitely looking her over with the analyzing expression that says Aerith's poor sleep patterns are completely found out.]
When's the last time you slept? And for how long?
no subject
Well... that's the thing, really. It's hard to sleep when you've got them around. Kind of a surprise, to tell the truth...
no subject
[that won't do at all. she can hardly ask Aerith to keep moving under these circumstances - being haunted by these curses can't be good on anyone.]
If you're exhausted, you can rest here, you know. A young man actually set up some wards over these rooms - I haven't seen a single one of those objects since he did. It'd be a safe haven.
no subject
[ She fidgets, but the idea of rest does hold her attention... for a moment. Aerith shakes her head. ]
Wait, wards...? Hey, who did that? [ She's got some familiarity with wards, actually. ]
no subject
[a pause, though, and she puts what she was dealing with aside.]
Why did you bring the dolls home with you? Did someone ask you to protect them?
[she's trying to figure them out, and it's hard to get much more than "bad vibes" off a doll.]
no subject
Mmm... Enma was tasked with collecting them. [ So, they're of interest for that alone, to her. But... ]
And they're cute. [ Just saying. ] Isn't that weird?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
norimune.
but it's who they see while in line that make the youkai's eyes open a little wider, deciding to delay their inevitable wait in the endless bureaucratic line in favor of calling out.]
Ichimonji.
[that's not Emily's voice. that's older, more weathered, less overtly feminine, and the look in their eyes isn't hers either. her eyes don't have that strange green sheen.]
no subject
Until he heard someone calling out to him with that name. He quickly looks over and sees Emily. Except it's not her, her voice sounds different, as well as the look in her eyes. His eyes widen for a moment.
Normally, just those within the Enma knows his full name. There might be a few outside of the faction, but overall, he's deliberately careful with giving out his name. He walks over to meet Emily... either her, or someone in her body?]
Why, hello. How may I help you, Miss Emily?
no subject
There's no one here you need to fool. Or...
[and here, their gaze narrows, looking him over head to toe.]
Don't tell me that the fading world got to your mind as well. Not unexpected, but it would explain her reticence to reach forth.
no subject
Oh? Hakagemachi, I presume.
[It's probably not the first time this building have seen people meeting by chance, confronting each other (both trivial and more serious) and so forth. Other than a few curious glances, the other youkai seems to mind their businesses.]
Since it's not the first time I've met people who already knows of this old man. And they all mentioned the same place.
[As curious as the situation is, it makes him wonder how much do they all know about him.]
how did this notif get lost
[who would have surely protested his host forgetting his existence.]
It's no matter. Hopefully he found his way to a better land to reside in.
lost and forgotten somewhere
[From the sound of it, this other Norimune most likely have a similiar situation as these Hakagemachi's people. Should he mention that she's mistaken, and she knew a different "copy" of him?
Maybe not in this space. Too public, and for information that's not necessary for anyone else here to learn. There's still the matter of how much Emily and this youkai know about him.]
It sounds like you care about this young one you speak of.
no subject
[they shrug, indicating the bundle in their arms, still wrapped up.]
One of those troublesome curse jars.
no subject
I'll take it for you, since I do work here.
[His curiosity over Hakagemachi and everything related to it is just another reason to put up with these haniwa.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
herlock.
which is why it's so unusual to hear some kind of fuss going on in the vicinity, something that has nothing to do with rigged games. curiously, she steps closer, hoping to eavesdrop enough to clarify it's none of her business - or if one of the little ones is involved, to make sure they extract themselves properly. but to trained eyes, perhaps, interest in the content of the disagreement looks like actively wanting to get involved.
that's not the case, but who cares what she wants?]
no subject
A mascot character for a host club? Well, businesses do love their mascots, so maybe it's barely worth a notice.
At the arcade entrance, where Emily lingers, a man has already mistaken her presence as a willing participant in whatever commotion is currently unraveling within. That man is none other than Sholmes, who turns to her as though magnetized in her direction—]
Madam!
[And waves her over with one hand, the other adjusting the brim of his deerstalker.]
Step into this establishment and lend me a second pair of eyes. A second opinion. After all, I'm of a mind that there's more afoot in this place than what is immediately obvious.
no subject
[she starts a little, clearly not expecting to be addressed, but being basically commanded instead of asked to do something is pretty much the quickest way to have Emily assist with anything. dutifully, she comes that way, looking a bit concerned but keeping her eyes open.]
What exactly do you need me to look at, sir? What seems to be going on?
[she can't give an opinion without facts to work on.]
no subject
Now then, that is the mystery I should like to unravel. Come in and see.
[And so Sholmes steps back inside the arcade with the assumption that she'll follow. It is not a terribly large place, at least not compared to some of the more sprawling spaces amid the city, but there are a fair amount of games that none should turn their nose up at. This includes, of course, the obligatory aisle of nothing more than crane games, not terribly far from the front counter.
He turns to face her again, gesturing with a hand to the individuals before them.]
I should direct your attention to the fellows before you -- there!
[The "fellows" he refers to are none other than:
A youkai at the counter, quite well-dressed for the establishment, his fox ears at a slant due to some unknown anxieties. He holds a screwdriver stiffly in one hand; on the back portion of the counter behind him rests an open toolbox. He looks at both Sholmes and Emily, wide-eyed, sputtering out a: W-welcome, did you need any assistance?
The second fellow is actually a small youkai child, holding a huge bucket of coins, proof of someone who has enough skill to wring dry several of these arcade machines. He's barely tall enough to look over the counter, but his indignity makes up for it. He motions at a collection of familiar-looking crane plushies, lined up very purposefully on the counter, face-forward, and declares: I was going to win those out of the machine! All of them! Why'd you take them out?!
The fox-eared youkai shoots him a look, citing, They're defective!
Meanwhile, Sholmes grins at Emily.]
Do you not sense something off here? Some great deceit underway? I should say that there are two shadowy wrongs amid this seemingly mundane scene: someone pretending to be who he is not, and an act of thievery brewing!
no subject
...Those toys aren't meant to be here. At the least, not within children's grasp. And yet here they are, where they don't belong, meaning someone made a grave error or committed some switchery.
i'm sorry
Ha! You work here as much as I do, good fellow — which is to say, not at all!
[Sholmes tilts his head at Emily, his manner expectant.]
In fact, I should say that he has another profession altogether! That of a doctor!
[What? sputters the youkai.]
What is it you have in your hand? A screwdriver! And if you'll look closely…
[(There is no camera or POV in this instance, and yet… oddly. The scene seems to shift, seems to zoom in towards the tool in the youkai's hand. Maybe it's all just a trick of the light.)]
There is a piece of thread caught on its end, matching a very particular blue belonging to the cranes before you!
What do you think, madam? [That's you, Emily.] Would you not agree that our stranger here is not only a doctor, but a surgeon, practicing his craft upon these poor stuffed birds?
no subject
[it makes no sense, but she's looking at the screwdriver.]
Still, why would he need that to manipulate the case? Surely there are latches upon these contraptions - unless of course he was using the screwdriver for something else entirely.
no subject
[—says the man who just deduced seconds ago that this youkai was a doctor.]
The man is not a doctor at all, but neither is he an employee of this fine establishment! Far too well-dressed for someone in such a casual environment, who must sometimes see to the maintenance of these machines.
[Here, the youkai child pipes up: He said he's fixing all those cranes plushies, but there was nothing to fix! He grips his massive bucket of coins with such a furor they shake and jingle. They were fine! He took them all out just so I wouldn't win one! I'm too good at these games and he's just jealous!]
Hm. [Sholmes looks at Emily.] Perhaps, madam, I should direct your attention to the thread caught around the screwdriver. It has indeed been fiddling with these plushies in a most invasive manner — but why? Perhaps we should inspect one?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)